Something
by Muselina
Summary: There's something about Lizzie that Darcy can't explain. Something that makes Darcy fall in love with her every time he sees her. Something that makes her different from any other girl he knows. Darcy doesn't want to know what that something is. Is it that important? He loves Lizzie and that's the end of the question.


_**Disclaimer: **The characters belong to miss Jane Austen and her heirs.  
_

_Just a short story based on the song "Something" by the Beatles (probably my favorite song ever). It's a translation of one of my one-shot and is meant to follow two longfics that follow their relationship from their late teens to the first years of college (modern setting). But this story stands on its own, actually. Here they're about twenty five years old and living together in London._**  
**

**Something**

He woke up feeling how the warm body besides him stirred between the sheets, showing a smooth feminine shoulder. The young woman's chestnut mane was sprawled over the pillow and her eyes were shut. She looked as she was having a very agreeable dream.

Darcy smiled when he saw that Lizzie smiled too, still sleeping. Was she dreaming about him? He'd never thought to love anyone as much as he loved her. He never thought that someone could become unique to him. Everything about Lizzie made her special. Her way of moving and smiling. The way in which she frowned when she couldn't understand something or the sound of her laugh when the night fell. He didn't know what was that "something" about Lizzie, which made her different from all the girls he'd ever known. But he didn't care about finding out.

Darcy leaned on his elbow, watching how Lizzie slept. He didn't want to wake her up; he just wanted to stay with her forever. Only the two of them, on that bed. There was something about that girl that made her who she was. Something that seduced him every time he saw her. Something that made him realize he was madly in love with her.

Softly, he caressed the girl's shoulder with one hand and noted how she wrinkled her eyes, resisting to wake up.

"What are you looking?" she asked, without opening her eyes. Darcy smiled again, stroking her arm softly. She held the sheets against her body, but relaxed under the touch of that known hand.

"The same thing I want to see every morning of my life," he muttered, looking lovingly at her. "I've got to say that I love that smile of yours. What where you dreaming about?"

"Do I have to tell you?" Lizzie asked, with her eyes still closed. "I thought it was obvious," she added, rolling over herself to get closer to Darcy.

"I hope we are thinking about the same thing, then," he mocked, while Lizzie hid her head in his neck, making Darcy's smile bigger. "How did you sleep?"

"Perfectly," she answered, opening her big dark eyes. "It's incredible what the perfect company can do. What time is it?"

"Half past ten, Lizzie," he replied, with a funny smile. "But it's Saturday. You don't have to go anywhere."

"No, you're right," she whispered, sighing deeply. "I don't know what you think, but I'd stay this way all my life. Doesn't it sound perfect, Darcy?"

"_How can she read my mind?_" Darcy wondered, looking at the chestnut hair mass that leaned against his shoulder.

"I was thinking about the same thing," he responded, making Lizzie laugh. That smooth and musical laughter that made her seem as a young girl.

Before he could say anything else, his phone began to ring. Darcy shook his head, with a frustrated sigh. What a way to get back to reality? However, he didn't move towards the cell phone. Instead, he just held Lizzie tighter.

"Answer," Lizzie ordered, guessing that he didn't want to do so. "Or they will keep on calling."

"Okay" Darcy agreed, frowning. "But you'll have to make up for it later," he added, stretching his arm towards the phone. "Hello?"

Lizzie cuddled towards him, smiling evilly. Darcy didn't see how the mischievous smile appeared on his girlfriend's lips; he kept on talking on the phone. Lizzie lifted her head and began to nimble Darcy's neck, kissing it delicately.

"Yes, sure, Jane. See you this afternoon." Lizzie went up his neck, kissing her boyfriends' jaw. Darcy's body tensed a little bit. Lizzie smiled mischievously and kept on kissing the boy's jaw and neck. "It's alright, don't worry, I was awake. Yes, this afternoon. Say hit o Bingley for me. Bye."

"What did Jane want?" asked Lizzie, kissing Darcy's shoulder.

"It seems that Bingley and her have something to tell us," he answered, breathing deeply. Lizzie stopped kissing him and leaned on the pillows. "Hey! Why did you stop?"

"I've got to get up, silly! I'm going to have lunch with Charlotte!" she replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Darcy frowned before rolling on top of her.

"Oh, no, missy. You're not going anywhere," he declared, starting to kiss her neck, as she had done a few minutes before. "You can't go without finishing what you started."

Lizzie smiled and kissed him.

-o-

"Now I _do_ have to wake up" the girl stated, sometime later. Darcy closed his eyes and held her against her body, provoking an angry grunt from the girl. "Don't be silly, Fitzwilliam!" she protested, trying to escape his embrace.

Darcy grunted and let her go. He looked how the girl woke up from bed, dragging the sheet that wrapped her and giving little jumps when her feet touched the cold floor. A smile lighted his face, as he saw the back of the girl as she got into the bathroom, the beauty spots that decorated it; and the way in which Lizzie walked. She walked as she was utterly unconscious of the way she moved. That was also part of the "something" which fascinated him. Lizzie's apparent innocence, which showed that she was really unconscious of her sensuality, of the shape of her hips and of what she provoked with only a smile.

Could he love even more that Little girl who had turned his world upside down? He didn't know, and didn't want to figure it out, actually. What he wanted was to be with her, to discover her at every moment, to make her laugh and laugh with her.

Lizzie got out of the bathroom, wearing one of Darcy's old t-shirts which was too big for her. Her chestnut hair was wet, and spread over her shoulders, as he dried it with a towel.

Darcy sat on the edge of the mattress, smiling at her. He liked how Lizzie's thin legs appeared under his t-shirt. She looked lovely. Lizzie jumped over the bed and embraced his back, kissing his neck's base.

"A penny for your thoughts" she whispered in his ear.

"I'm thinking of you, as I always do" was the first answer that came into his mind. He rejected it. Too sentimental. Neither he nor Lizzie were fans of that kind of sentimental stuff.

"About how, after so much time, I still don't know what is that thing about you that fascinates me" was his sincere reply. Lizzie smiled at him as she stood up and went to the closet to pick her clothes.

"Does it really matter?" she said with a smile, before entering the bathroom again, with her clothes in her hand.

Darcy threw himself over the bed, pondering Lizzie's words. Maybe she was right and the concrete reason wasn't at all important. He liked that idea. There has always been something indefinite about Lizzie, and was precisely that "indefiniteness" what he liked most about her. He loved discovering her in different moment, seeing the different shades of her personality. Lizzie had to be discovered, and he liked that above all.

Lizzie got out of the bathroom, once again, arranging her blouse's neck. She took her purse from where it was hanging and smiles at Darcy, who was still lying on his back over the bed.

"Well, see you later" she said, leaning over him, before kissing him in the brow. "Where are we supposed to meet Jane and Bingley?"

"That café near Hyde Park, the one that Jane likes so much" Darcy answered, smiling at her use of the plural. "Have a nice time, Lizzie."

Lizzie took her jacket from the back of a chair and left the room while putting it on. Darcy heard the main door closing behind her and smiled again. There was nothing better than waking up beside that woman who had that "something" that drove him mad —in the good sense. Luckily, he could do so every morning.

* * *

_*English is not my first language, so I deeply apologize for any grammar mistake you may find._

_Did you like it? Did I manage to catch the song's spirit?  
_

_Muselina_


End file.
